


Frilly Aprons

by pearl_o



Category: due South
Genre: Dreams, Genderfuck, M/M, Post-Call of the Wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-01
Updated: 2006-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>And, honestly, if Ray *was* going to wear three inch heels, would he be doing it around the house? No. No, he would not.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frilly Aprons

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the stop_drop_porn community on lj.

The first clue Ray had that something wasn't right was the shoes. Ray only owned three pairs of shoes -- his everyday boots, his boots for the snow Fraser made him buy, and the ones that used to be nice but really weren't so much anymore, the ones he wore when he had to wear his suit or go to court or something. They were all old and familiar, was the point, and furthermore _none_ of them were strappy pink things with three inch heels.

And, honestly, if Ray _was_ going to wear three inch heels, would he be doing it around the house? No. No, he would not. Who vacuumed in high heels? Nobody, because it was dumb. For that matter, why was Ray vacuuming, anyway? Since when did the cabin have thick plush luxury carpenting instead of just the boring hardwood floors Fraser swept out once a day? 

Something was very weird here.

At least his shoes matched the crisp ironed dress and apron he was wearing. Small mercies, Ray guessed.

The front door opened with a bang, and suddenly there was Fraser. He was standing in the center of the doorway, hands on his hips, smiling widely, and he was dressed in all his thickest winter clothes, and the wind was blowing all around him, snow swirling all around him over and over, even though last time Ray checked it was still July outside. None of the snow seemed to be getting in the house, though, even after Fraser strode forward, straight to Ray, without even shutting the door behind him.

Fraser wrapped his arms around him and dipped him backwards, kissing him passionately on the lips; Ray had to keep his arms clutched around Fraser's neck to keep his balance. In a husky voice, Fraser said, "Honey, I'm home."

"Oh, Fraser," Ray said, in this high breathless voice he didn't even recognize, "I made you a cake!"

Fraser closed his eyes, and his nostrils flared a little as he breathed in deeply. "German chocolate. It smells wonderful." He opened his eyes again, and Ray thought he felt himself trembling a little at the steamy look in his eyes. "Ray, I must have you. _Now_!"

Fraser had Ray scooped up in his arms before Ray could even blink, heading straight for the bed. 

"Wait, Fraser, I have to check on the baby," Ray said, gesturing over to the corner where there was now a bassinette set up, Dief's snores coming from it every few seconds. Fraser just ignored this, though, and set Ray gently on the edge of the bed.

Fraser wasn't wearing his parka and boots anymore; instead he was shirtless, just wearing his sweatpants. Ray was still in the dress and heels, though, and Fraser knelt down on the floor in front of him. First he removed each of the high heels, which Ray's feet were immediately grateful for. Then he pushed up the skirt of Ray's dress and started rolling down Ray's stockings, a little at a time, kissing each new patch of skin of Ray's thighs and calves and ankles as it came uncovered. By the time Fraser got around to slipping off the tiny scrap of panties from between Ray's legs, Ray was panting for it -- he let Fraser pull him up to stand again, and stood still while Fraser unzipped the dress, letting it pool on the floor around his feet. He closed his eyes as Fraser began to unfasten his bra, but he could still feel the heat of Fraser's eyes on him, _watching_ him, _wanting_ him.

And then Fraser's mouth was on his tit, and Ray raised one hand to bury in Fraser's hair, to hold him there, right there. "Oh--" Ray said.

Fraser raised his head and said, "Oh, _Ray_ " and then they were on the bed, naked and kissing. Ray wasn't sure how long it was -- minutes, hours, maybe even a couple years -- just making out, hot and sweet and wet and sweaty. And then it all changed again, and Ray was stretched out on his back, arms clutching the headboard behind him, while Fraser's fingers dipped down into his slick cunt, and then started making small circles around his clit, firm but gentle, just right, pushing Ray higher and higher--

"Fuck me, please," Ray said, and his voice was weird again, girly still, but low and slinky and halfway to a moan.

"Mmmmm," said Fraser; he kissed Ray on the mouth again, and then lied down next to him, on the bed stretching out forever in both directions, and he pulled Ray up on top of him. Fraser's cock was hard, really fucking hard, gorgeous and thick and ... actually, it maybe even looked bigger than usual, but Ray was okay with that, he really was. He raised himself up, pushed down back onto Fraser, taking Fraser's cock all the way into his cunt until he was competely full, as he'd ever been, and it was so good he had to stop a minute, just take a bunch of deep breathes, get used to the _pleasure_ of it.

"Oh, Ray," Fraser said again, skimming his hands down Ray's thighs, and Ray leaned over and kissed him, rubbing his tits against Fraser's chest, sighing into his mouth as they started moving together, slow and sensuous and _goddamn_ , so good, and the feeling was rising up in him now, he could feel it.

"Fraser," Ray said, "Fraser, Fraser, _Fraser--_ " He was writhing, he was gonna come, he was right there--

And then something kicked him hard in the leg, and Ray opened his eyes to see the ceiling of the pitch dark cabin and realized he was lying in bed. His and Fraser's _real_ bed. He kicked off the heavy top quilt -- he was sweating under it -- and sat up and reached over to turn on the lamp by the nightstand. 

Fraser was still sleeping beside him, curled up a little bit on his side. His mouth hung open a little, and one hand was reaching out where it'd been resting on Ray's chest before Ray had pushed it off just now.

"Fraser," said Ray.

Fraser didn't respond.

" _Fraser_ ," Ray said louder.

Fraser stirred a little.

Ray reached over and shook Fraser's shoulder until his eyes started to blink open. "Mm-- Ray? Ray, what is it?" Fraser said. His voice was a littel foggy, but he was already sitting up, getting ready to leap out into action, or something.

"I am not your housewife, Fraser," Ray said, in his most threatening voice.

Fraser stared at him for a long moment. "Ah," he said finally.

"I mean it. I'm not your little wife, or your bitch, or your femme, or, or, or _anything_. You are not in charge of this, all right? We are _equals_. Maybe I'm not working yet, but I don't just sit around the cabin all day doing my nails, you know what I mean"

"Well put," Fraser said slowly; his brow was furrowed. "May I go back to sleep now?"

"Yeah, sure," Ray said. He turned off the light again, and laid down again next to Fraser. "It's just--" he added after a couple of minutes; he ignored Fraser's small sigh. "I'm not a _girl_ , Fraser. That's not what this is. I mean--" He fumbled for words, then reached out for Fraser's hand and pulled it down press against his cock in his boxers. "See?"

"Yes, Ray, I am quite familiar with your genitalia," Fraser said, which Ray figured was Fraser's way of saying _Buddy, I just sucked you off three hours ago, I think I have a good relationship with your dick already_ without actually saying it, so Ray was a little mollified.

"Okay, then."

"Okay," Fraser repeated. He leaned over and kissed the corner of Ray's mouth in the dark, short and sweet. "Good night."

"Good night," Ray repeated, and then he fell back asleep and started dreaming about being kidnapped by aliens, instead of crazy girly sex dreams.


End file.
